


Birthday at Dunwall Tower

by anelusiveblep



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Cunnilingus, F/M, Massage, Missionary, Old Married Couple, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Smut, erotic drapery, handjob, low-key body worship, old people having fun, poorly added mechanic metaphors, there's a lot of sex here folks, they're old okay there's no goddamn time for acrobatics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:24:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anelusiveblep/pseuds/anelusiveblep
Summary: It's Jessamine's birthday, and these two lovers have been together for 25 years.





	Birthday at Dunwall Tower

**Author's Note:**

> "she does her best to slide under him like she sees mechanics slide under the train cars down Clavering boulevard--determined, skilled, and ready to get filthy."

Her shoulders sag with the weight of the day, only coming to a close now in the late hours of the night and offering some small reprieve as she trudges up the stairs to her personal chambers.

She can still hear the noise and merriment from the party downstairs--theoretically, they would begin to wind down soon now that the titular guest had departed, but Jessamine knows these nobles and go-getters too well; The drinks were still flowing and as long as the poor overworked servants kept replenishing the glasses and the platters of food, the party wouldn't stop until the leftover nobles scrambled back to their mansions, drunk and half-dressed in the predawn hours. It was only by technicality ‘her birthday party’. Most of these events turned into pale imitations of the Fugue Feast, small doses of time throughout the year that the elite believed they could get away with light portions of debauchery outside the regular occurrences. A few words were spared in her direction, a few toasts, and some meager celebration, but as soon as the speeches were finished no one paid her any extra mind beyond petty grovelling--they were here for the party, not for the pleasure of her company. Not that she minded terribly about being ignored; it was just a shame that she needed to show her face at all.

Jessamine is all too happy to leave her guards to keep the guests in line--being surrounded by nobles all vying for a chance to get in her favour is not relieved with the presence of alcohol, only made less subtle and less tolerable.

The hallway leading to her chambers is empty but for a pair of guards standing at each end, their heads oscillating for any sign of trouble. As soon as they see her they both come to attention and salute her, only putting their fists back to their sides once she nods to each of them in turn. Her back feels bare without Corvo standing immediately behind her, but having heightened security for the party brings her some ease at least. She knows that Corvo is attending to his duties as head of security and will return shortly, but being away from him is difficult. It just doesn't feel quite right without him there, as he has been for more than 25 years now; Always a step behind and just to the left, tall and stoic and just the right amount of intimidating to any who approach her. His absence is a special vulnerability to her person, and even in these short moments apart she misses his closeness. Being able to reach out and clasp his hand is something she has grown accustomed to in the small moments where she needs that grounding touch.

She nearly collapses when she reaches her bedroom door after what feels like eons. In her advanced age she moves a little slower, her feet grow heavy faster, and she finds herself less and less able to tolerate standing with perfect posture for hours on end to deliver speeches and attend meetings. The fineries she wears grow uncomfortable faster, and more and more she wishes she could perform her duties as Empress in her pajamas, reclining in her bed with a glass of wine. 

Her bed calls to her, a siren’s song as she opens the door and steps into the only abode she can truly call her own. 

The tension melts away as soon as the door latches behind her. Her handmaidens know her well--the fire is already crackling merrily at the far side of the room and spreading a beautiful orange glow throughout. The temperature is perfect. Candles have been lit as well, and they let off the pleasant scent of lavender as they flicker away on her desk and in the wall sconces around the room. 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath through her nose, slumping against the door and letting her head roll back on her shoulders. It's a minute or so of Jessamine moaning happily as she slowly stretches out her sore limbs with her eyes shut before Corvo clears his throat from the shadowy direction of the bed, and she starts with a loud gasp out of her reverie. 

“I was starting to think you would never come back.” There's a hint of amusement in his rough voice, and when Jessamine peeks around the corner of the entryway, she can understand why. 

Her four-poster bed is lit enticingly by the lavender-scented candles, and the drapes are hanging down just enough to cast a comfortable shadow over the head of the bed. Corvo lays there, propped up on his elbow, his feet nearly hanging off the bed; His long hair is clean from the oils that he had used to slick it back for the party, and his curls drape handsomely over his shoulders, almost touching the all-too-inviting pillows. The bed itself, what isn't obscured by his nude form, is covered in tiny blue and purple flower petals that she hopes were not plucked from her gardens; it's a passing worry, as she finds her gaze wandering hungrily over his body, taking in every white scar and mark on the dark body she's loved so many times over the years. (She's sure she could make a map of every scar, mole, freckle, and dimple on his body by this point--the hours she's spent tracing them with her lips and her fingers has forged a permanent record in her memory.) He has ever so carefully draped one of her nicer silk sheets over his groin and thighs, and nothing could bring her closer to the bed faster than seeing the silhouette of his sex pressing firm against the fabric. Her malaise and aches miraculously vanish from her body and she feels like a young woman again as she strides over and nearly jumps onto the bed in her eagerness. 

“Hello my love,” he cups her face and brings her in for a slow kiss, “Happy birthday.” Jessamine brings his lips back to hers and lets a sigh into his mouth as she winds her fingers through the hair on his chest, now sprinkled with grey like the rest of him.

“If I had known you awaited me here, I would have ordered everyone out hours ago,” she says against his cheek. “I have half a mind to go back down and punish them all for keeping me from you for so long.” He lets out a small laugh and punctuates it with a chaste kiss, winding his hand up around the back of her neck and sitting up slightly to stroke her hip. All the tension in her body melts into the warmth of his hands and she hopes that the deep kiss she gives him, her tongue darting out to trace his full lips, demonstrates her appreciation. He gives her a small moan and presses his fingers into her hip as an ever so subtle display of his eagerness. 

“I promise I will make it worth the wait, love.” The huskiness of his voice belies his desire and there's an ever so subtle shift in him. Suddenly the press of his fingers against her skin seems urgent, perhaps a little desperate, and she's drawn to him as a moth to a flame with her heart pounding faster from excitement, a pleasant pool of warmth settling in her abdomen. He rubs her hip in earnest and her response is a long groan. With his other hand, he rubs her neck, shoulder, reaches down under her arm to massage her lower back through her finery. She lets the happy noises slip out, encouraging him to continue massaging her aching joints and releasing all the tension built up in her chest. After so many years together, Corvo knows exactly what spots of hers to push and prod at to give her bad hips and sore back some relief--at the end of a long day like this, its an easy way to make her absolutely melt into his arms. Melt she does; she presses her hips against him and moves her leg ever so slightly between his, brings her chest as close to his so her knuckles scrape her chest when she digs her nails into his thick bed of chest hair. She kisses him with a satisfied moan as his hand travels over her hip to squeeze her butt encouragingly, and the touch sends her thigh high enough that she can feel the urgent press of him through her fineries and the thin sheet covering him. He pushes on her with some force and when she doesn't instantly move, he rolls her onto her back and stretches over top of her with a powerful kiss.

She can't help but giggle--rarely is Corvo so forward, but he knows she loves it when he decides to play dominant. He works her blouse out of the waistband, and when his coarse fingers play along the bare skin of her waist she shudders slightly and is unable to stop a smile of girlish excitement creep into their long kiss. 

It happens fast after that--She gets lost in his kiss, the desperate, quiet moans pouring into mouth and his beard pleasantly coarse against her face. His hands move efficiently over her body; he doesn't stop and linger at this point, merely moves from place to place to bare her skin to him. Before she realizes, her trousers are half down her thighs and her chest is bare and open to him, his hand hot and firm on her stomach. 

Jessamine pulls away from his mouth so they can catch their breath; Both pant heavily, and the sweat is already starting to bead on his forehead. She keeps her eyes glued to his and loses herself in the less-than-noble intentions displayed so openly in his gaze, begins to fumble sloppily for the silky fabric that's fallen on her now that he's looming above her--He’s so large, he's so much bigger than her and it replaces the air in her lungs with overwhelming delight--and rips it out from between them so she can finally see his erection, feel it against her thigh as he fully straddles her hips. 

Craving the feel of him in the palm of her hands, she reaches out to touch him and watches his expression change ever so slightly as she curls her fingers around his penis with a light squeeze. The weight and warmth of him in her hand is as familiar and delightful as the pastries prepared for her party, as she craves him on her tongue in the same way. She explores him as she always does; massaging and trailing her fingers up and down his length, changing the pressure, rolling his foreskin back and forth, and watching him all the while. His eyes are lidded and dark, the breath from between his open lips hot but not unpleasant, and from this angle she can see his arms taught from holding his mass above her, as well as the muscles down his abdomen twitching and churning with the effort of maintaining his facade. 

Her other hand joins in, and that's when she gets her dearest birthday wish--the small moan that escapes Corvo, half a shuddering sigh and his eyes fluttering closed while his shoulders hunch ever so slightly. Even that small noise has a huge effect, and Jessamine has to suppress the delighted shiver that rockets straight down to her loins with a heat like lava. Her thighs squeeze together and her breath races out with a small desperate noise. When he rocks his hips into her touch and she hears her name as barely a whisper, she bites her lips and shifts her sore hips under him; Suddenly the urge is there and she doesn't want to fool around anymore, wants nothing more than to feel him in her one way or another, and she lets go of him only to slide down the bed under him to kiss his chest down to his abdomen. Her squirming is awkward especially with her trousers still around her ankles, but she does her best to slide under him like she sees mechanics slide under the train cars down Clavering boulevard--determined, skilled, and ready to get filthy. 

She doesn't make it far before Corvo reels back and stops her by firmly sitting on her knees. “No Jessamine,” he places his hands on her waist and shifts her back up the bed as easily as one would move a lazy cat, “I have something else in mind.” His devious grin then (the barest flash of teeth, it's a rare sight and she treasures each instance like fine jewellery) brings her thighs tighter together and all at once she feels like a maiden again, trembling and excited and so in love her chest squeezes tight around her shallow breaths. She can only nod eagerly, all her bold words and wit lost deep in his sultry gaze. 

He kisses her again, very chaste, removing his lips far too quickly for her liking but making up for it by trailing delicate kisses down her neck and along her clavicle. The brief scratching beneath her jaw and in the hollow of her neck from his neatly trimmed beard makes her breath short, and she finds her fingers pressing little red circles into his shoulders as he begins to move past her neck and down to attend to her breasts. Deft fingers squeeze, roll, and massage her nipples for what seems like an eternity. Jessamine closes her eyes and rests her head against the pillow, letting a long moan drag out. She rubs his shoulders in return, encouraging him and relishing in the feeling of his thick muscles, his strong neck and wide back, the tension of his meaty shoulders as he works away at her body. 

“Corvo…” she moans as he presses his lips to her breast, his massive hand gently rubbing the other, “please never stop.” 

His response rumbles against her chest, and she only nods--She no longer needs clarification from him when he's muffled, she knows exactly how his “Of course, darling” sounds when his mouth is busy. One last touch,a tiny kiss pressed to her firm nipple, and his hands trail down her sides to her hips and ass with the most gentle of caresses. She cranes her neck up even though she doesn't need to--She knows that he's tracing the white and pink stretch marks like stripes across her, but the reverent look on his face as he does it makes her heart ache in her chest. He kisses the loosened skin of her belly like nobles kiss her ring in court, touches her and licks his lips with an apparent hunger as he rolls his thumbs over the fat on her hips, the delicate stretches of skin that shine; each one gets a kiss or a small lick. It's his way of appreciating the life and the child they have had together. 

His hands worm under her ass and he squeezes tight with a strained grunt. She takes one last glance at him and his expression undoes her; His eyebrows knotted together, his mouth open, his lips barely brushing her skin, and the tension of his shoulders all paint a vivid picture. Jessamine is unable to do anything but let her head fall back to the pillow and press her ass into his hands, spreading her legs a little bit further even though they tremble for him. She almost loses words with Corvo stroking his hands under her ass, up and down the sides of her thighs and over her belly. His mouth is only slightly displaced, and she realizes it's a game--how long can she last with before crying his name and begging for him? How long can he last, keeping his mouth away from where he wants it most? She looks up again and he's smirking above her, his eyes bright and playful, and all she can manage is a soft, “Oh Corvo, please….. please” before she runs out of breath from and has to gasp in air--the anticipation of his warm mouth, his wet tongue almost too much to bear. Her loins burn for him and it's all she can do--hands digging into his shoulders--not to grab fistfuls of his hair and bring his mouth down to her aching clit. 

He makes a noise low in his throat, an appreciative hum, and with the gentlest of touches kisses the soft bed of curls on her groin. He watches her intently for her reaction, and she wants to stare into his eyes but her eyes are drawn to his full lips just barely touching her, his long crooked nose a hair’s breadth from her belly, his shaggy hair falling in his face. She nods, mouth open and just on the cusp of begging, and her head bobs frantically back and forth because she can't say ‘please’ desperately enough to echo what she feels. 

Thighs spread wide though her old hips ache, heels digging into the bed, Jessamine rolls her hips towards his waiting mouth and the rumble of contentment as Corvo seals his lips around her clit nearly kills her. One of her hands shoots off to the side so she can twist her fingers viciously in the bedsheets, and the other shakes with restraint as she winds her fingers as gently as she can into a fist in Corvo’s hair. His lips part and not a moment later, his wide tongue slips between her folds. 

The ability of rational thought flees Jessamine then, and her entire body slackens for a moment as he begins working his tongue over and in her. Every inhale pools heat at the small point where his mouth meets her, sends a wave through her that stiffens her back in an arch and makes her legs shake. He starts slow; she can feel him taking frequent pauses, making every action purposeful and effective, the movements of his tongue and lips languid and lazy: enough to overwhelm her, but not too much. One glance down at him and the determined set of his shoulders and she knows there will be time for that later. 

Suddenly, her aching bones don't feel as bad anymore. The sweet pit of pleasure in her abdomen, spreading from where Corvo is licking and sucking her, overwhelms the pain of her old hips and the ache that covers her shoulders down to her tailbone like a cloak. Her knees tremble a little bit and she has to willfully relax them over his shoulders even as a new delighted shiver spreads through her. 

The coarse hands that she's grown so accustomed to on her skin move from her belly to massage her hips. His broad fingertips press deep into her striped flesh, and her elicited groan has nothing to do with his tongue then. Her knees slacken completely over his shoulders, and under her thighs she can feel his powerful arms work on easing the aches that assault her almost constantly now. When his thumbs dip into the divot where her thigh meets the rest of her, he presses his tongue in her for a moment, drags it up to flick her nub. His thumbs stay put while his fingers focus on massaging her hips and down under her ass. Body nearly out of her control, Jessamine whines his name loud, presses herself against his mouth and tightens the fist in his hair. He rumbles against her and picks up his pace; tongue working on and over her, licking, sucking, swirling, and she can feel his jaw working hard between her thighs. Their breaths come in ragged pants, Jessamine’s chest heaving as she rolls her hips up towards him, Corvo's nose only adding to the heat at her groin. One of his hands leaves her hip, snakes around to part her folds, and before her sluggish mind has quite caught up his thick fingers are slipping ever so easily into her and he's two fingers in with his tongue hot and insistent on her clit, and the noises are dripping from the corners of her lips like honey. Her hand untangles without grace from his hair so she can grasp the bedspread and anchor herself to thrust greedily towards his mouth, aching and desperate for his fingers deeper inside her. She's not sure if it's moments or hours, but the heat is pooling and the sensitivity is building, and every breath is a short cry with her eyes screwed shut and every sense focused between her legs. 

All too abruptly, the heat of his mouth leaves her and his fingers slide out as easily as they went in. Jessamine's eyes fly open and she reaches for his head again, lowers her shaking hips with a whump. She shifts uncomfortably, so close and so desperate, wanting only to feel him on her again in any capacity. 

His warm breath still washes over her and Jessamine lets her hand relax in his hair, takes a moment to brush his hair back over his ears. They share a smile, and Corvo lifts himself up to kiss her, and his tongue slips easily against hers, the sweet taste of herself all too familiar now from these kisses. His hand still works away at her right hip--he knows it's the one that bothers her the most--and when his wet fingers find her hard nipple again, she moans, ragged, into his mouth. His lips leave hers with a juicy smack , and he kisses his way to her temple, the lobe of her ear, and whispers, “How would you like this?” Like a dream come true, his hips slip up between her thighs and suddenly his abdomen is touching hers, the firm insistence of his cock pressing against her hot and desperate. She lifts her thighs and hooks them around his hips, squeezing up to feel as much of his length as possible. His hips slowly grind against her, like well oiled machinery-the muscles of his thighs, back, and ass all working away, and his cock rubs up against her, slipping between her folds but not quite in. 

Jessamine's half-lidded eyes can tell no lies. Her body is jelly and her head not much better. All that matters to her is the smirk gracing his full lips, his penis rubbing against her, grazing her clit and sending little jolts up her core. “Just like this,” she mumbles. “Corvo please, take me, have me, just like this!” The air rushes from her, hissing with insistence, and she takes fistfuls of his hair, pulls his head back so she can press her lips sloppily against his--all tongue and desperation, moaning wildly as she moves her hips towards him. He chuckles briefly into their kiss and his hands leave her: one moves to her neck and his warm palm is immensely soothing, his long fingers winding into her hair against her tender scalp; the other slips between their hips and between her lips. 

He pushes inside her slowly, deliberately. The muscles of his hips move with power and restraint as he gradually fills her. She parts their lips so he can see her smile--her mouth hangs open and she's only somewhat aware of the moisture leaving her mouth, her eyes are half lidded and she can only try to keep their gaze attached. 

The bulk of his body settles on her, a gentle reminder of his size. Her thighs relax around him as he starts slowly rolling his hips, and she can feel his cock slipping in and out of her much too gently for her desires. His fingers find her clit again, and his large thumb deftly rubs her in smooth conjunction with the tide of his hips. Jessamine lets her head loll back on the pillow, closes her eyes to take in the sweet sensation of Corvo. She rocks her hips up to meet Corvo's fingers, arches her back so her soft belly meets his. With her neck bared, it's an invitation; Corvo's lips find the flutter of her pulse and his teeth graze her skin ever so slightly. 

Every thrust builds her pleasure and her impatience. Her voice builds in his ear, coming to a high pitched grunt with every smooth stroke. She presses her lips against his temple, grits her teeth, and whispers “harder". 

He complies.

Within an instant, his composure changes. His fingers press into her scalp and his teeth clamp down softly on the lobe of her ear. His breath thickens as his hips suddenly jerk forward enough to shift her on the mattress. She gasps in delight with a small “oh!”, and is rewarded with his thumb swirling faster on her delicate nub.the heat builds in her fast, her thighs bouncing as he sets a ruthless pace of fast and sure strokes. Her hips follow his and she finds herself digging her heels into his ass, hands grappling for purchase on his back to anchor herself as his thumb quickens and alternates--he gives her brief pauses, rubs hard, rubs soft and fast, presses her clit and gives a few short thrusts that tear obscene noises from the quiet dignity she attempts to maintain.

His breath is hot and heavy on her neck. He moans as well; her neck rumbles where his lips touch her, but her mouth hangs open beside his ear and her ecstatic gasps and whimpers drown him out no matter how hard she tries. The pressure building in her loins is astounding, and she has to resist the urge to dig her nails in when he pulls his torso up and off of her. He grips her hips tight, and pauses ever so briefly to look at her. She appreciates, momentarily, the salt and pepper of his broad, hairy chest, the sweat beading on his forehead and down his abdomen, the trail that leads down to where their hips meet, and his dark dark eyes questioning her although she knows he already knows the answer. 

Jessamine nods rapidly, splays her hands to either side and grips the sheets like she might fly off at any moment, roots her hips up towards him and makes a small keening noise. Desperation, need, hunger, all wrack her old body and she just wants to scream even in the brief moment he's paused. He's giving her the smallest of breaks she hasn't asked for because he feels her right leg shaking, the muscles in her thigh and hip absolutely aching, but the heat in her groin is overpowering and all-consuming. She grits her teeth and grinds her hips desperately against him until his fingers dig in and he lifts her ass off the bed, letting her thighs fall to the side. 

It happens fast--he braces a hand on the bed and angles down, and his cock is hitting her hard, fast, in a new way that crescendos that bead of libido deep in her, and all she can feel in that moment is heat consuming her body, her belly on fire and her groin totally consumed by pleasure. Her brain leaves her and she knows she's gasping, possibly shouting, and his name spills from her body like starlight even as she feels Corvo stiffen, his hips thrusting in powerful, jerky motions, until his seed spilling in her, warm as honey. She gasps desperately for air as the muscles in her abdomen jump skip, before her legs and arms melt into jelly and the weakness takes over her faster than she can lean up to kiss her love. Her hands slip down to his wrists and gives them a gentle squeeze. With her breath still fighting to return her chest heaving and covered with sweat, her throat still giving up whimpers and her heart hammering in her ribs like a maddened musician, it's the only communication she can get across as the intensity of her orgasm gradually fades. Her body throbs sweetly and waves of shudders pass over her, her muscles still tightening around corvos warmth in her. 

His hand leaves her hip and he lowers himself down so his abdomen rests against hers (the coarse hairs of his belly tickling her ever so gently) and kisses the corner of her mouth, her cheek and ear. The warmth of his heavy breaths against her neck is inviting and she turns her cheek to press against his until their heavy panting is more or less in unison. 

He drops to his elbows, slips his hands under her shoulders so he can cradle her chest and head in his arms. She melts into the touch of his hands upon her neck once more, prodding and massaging as if he knows that the aches are already on their way back. The full bulk of his weight settles on her for a moment, and she feels his softening cock leave her suddenly empty. It's suddenly a little chilly, and Jessamine pulls her legs up under him, gently encourages him to the side.   
A man of his size cannot flop gracefully, and both laugh when the bed bounces her up. She turns to face him. His smile, just the barest glimpse of white teeth, crinkling the corners of his dark eyes and deepening the generous lines bracketing his mouth, lights up her world for an instant and she falls in love with him all over again, deep and hard and the sudden rush of emotions closes her throat tight like it did when she first confessed her love. His palm snakes onto her belly and even with the not entirely unpleasant awkwardness of the mess between her thighs, she could not imagine being happier anywhere else in the Isles. She sidles closer to him and curls against the brazen warmth emanating from his every inch, her arms snaking around his generous torso. His powerful arms enclose her and he plants a soft kiss on her forehead; his coarse beard tickles her a little but it's not unpleasant. The stench of their sweat together, the unique mix of Jessamine's delicate floral perfumes and Corvo's unscented washes, the natural scents unique to them, enfolds the pair in a familiar scent that makes up the comfort of home in each other's arms. Jessamine breathes in that chaotic mix, breathes in deep until she can feel it reach her fingertips and covers her every square inch in the familiarity of decades of love.

She nuzzles up against his chest, splays her fingers through his salt and pepper curls, grips the meat of his chest gently as she plants kisses along his collar. His lips touch the top of her head and his breath is pleasantly warm along her scalp--his fingers trail up and down her spine, only pausing briefly to stroke her arm or comb her raven hair out on the pillows behind her. 

When Jessamine rests her ear against his chest, the heavy thump of his heartbeat has slowed to its regular molasses rate; steady and sure and robust even at rest. 

Neither of them are sure how long they lay there together, totally comfortable and only a little bit messy, the sweat having dried on their skin and their breathing settled to normal. At some point, Jessamine becomes aware of the pain settling back in her hips and lower back, but Corvo’s hands find those aches and ease them away. 

The steady drumming of his heart lulls her to rest, and she distantly feels Corvo move to pull a blanket over her but by the time he lays back down and whispers “Happy Birthday my love,” against her temple, she is already asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Emily moved her bedroom away from her Mother's a LONG time ago
> 
> (I *could* write other pairings, but why would I?)


End file.
